Saturday, May 3, 2014

Son of Dracula (1974)

In the years immediately following the demise of
the Beatles, George Harrison, John Lennon, and Paul McCartney each found
individual musical success, but the band’s easygoing drummer, Ringo Starr,
wasn’t naturally suited to solo pop stardom. Therefore, even as he periodically
released music, Starr had time for such other endeavors as acting and film
producing. Starr’s cinematic hobby reached a strange climax with Son of
Dracula, a comedy/horror musical featuring singer Harry Nilsson in the
title role. Nilsson, a friend of Lennon’s and Starr’s who was as notable for
his epic drinking as for his offbeat pop music, demonstrates zero screen presence
as the modern-day heir to Count Dracula’s netherworld throne—despite performing
a number of exciting tunes both onscreen and on the soundtrack (including one
of his biggest hits, the mournful ballad “Without You’), Nilsson’s appearance
in the film is merely a novelty. Similarly, Starr’s supporting role as Merlin
the Magician (complete with the silly costume of a gigantic beard, a pointy hat
covered with stars, and a robe) feels more like a lark than a proper filmic
statement. Plus, the way music-industry pals including John Bonham, Peter
Frampton, and Keith Moon show up during performance scenes gives Son of
Dracula the feel of a show that Starr put on in his backyard.

Buried inside Son
of Dracula, however, is the skeleton of a serviceable horror movie, because
the protagonist, Count Downe (Nilsson), experiences an existential crisis on the
eve of taking his father’s place as King of the Monsters. Specifically, Count
Downe wants to experience human emotions, so he enlists the aid of Dr. Van
Helsing (Dennis Price) for a scientific process that will make Count Downe
mortal. Meanwhile, scheming netherworld lieutenant Baron Von Frankenstein (Freddie Jones) wants to expose Count Downe as a
traitor, thus usurping the throne. Executed without irony, this plot could have generated an adequate horror
show. Alas, Son of Dracula is padded with nonsense including the aforementioned
musical numbers (which are weakly justified by the contrivance that Count Downe
dabbles in singing), as well as endless montages of Count Downe wandering
around London. Veteran horror director Freddie Francis does an okay job of
filming city streets and underground dungeons with atmospheric low angles, and
composer Paul Buckmaster provides a few evocative moments of dissonant scoring,
but none of these flourishes matter. As it wobbles between action, comedy,
drama, horror, and music, Son of Dracula elicits no audience reaction
more strongly than it elicits boredom.